Mimic
by RavieSnake
Summary: A distress call is received. A clock points to mortal peril. Ron enters his home to find shattered glass and blood on the walls...and what the f*** is that? Oneshot.


**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of the characters/concepts from it. I make no money from the writing/publishing of this story.**

 **Originally written for #spookyscarydulceween on tumblr. Happy Halloween!**

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Rose Weasley grinned ear to ear as she toddled the distance from the couch to the safety of her mother's arms. She giggled as she flung herself into those arms and was immediately snatched up into a hug.

"Hooray for Rosie!" Hermione Granger-Weasley announced proudly, giving her daughter an affectionate squeeze. She held the girl out and placed a kiss to her chubby cheek. "You are getting so big, my love," she cooed. "Daddy will be so proud of you. We'll have to show him this in the Pensieve when he gets home, won't we? Yes we will, yes we will!"

Rose continued to smile under the praise as Hermione booped her on the nose. There was a sudden tapping noise from behind them and Hermione turned to look out her front living room window.

Her heart stopped and her breath was sucked from her chest at what she saw outside of it.

"What the fuck is that!?" she blurted out in terror at the sight of a creature staring back at her. Young Rose's smile immediately morphed into a scared pout at her mother's uncharacteristic tone of voice and use of the _very bad word_ that daddy liked to say.

"Mumma?"

Hermione shushed her daughter, and pressed a hand over the girl's face to keep her from seeing the most frightening being she'd ever laid eyes on.

It was humanoid, hairless, with mottled grey skin, and stared back at them with glistening white irises set within jet black eyes. It had a mouthful of jagged teeth that it bared behind a set of curled blue lips while it continued to tap a gnarled, long-clawed finger against the pane in a steady rhythm.

When it saw Hermione speak, it tilted its face.

 _"What the fuck is that_ ," it clearly mouthed to mimic her own words. That's when Hermione screamed.

She shot to her feet and clutched Rose to her chest before darting toward the hallway. Rose clung to her mother as she bobbed in her arms and then began to cry when the sound of shattering glass erupted from behind them.

"WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT!" the creature screeched in a harsh, tinny voice as it stumbled through the window. Hermione glanced over her shoulder at it as she hurtled down the hall to see it right itself and shake like a dog to free its skin of the glass shards. She faced forward again and went straight to her bedroom door and began to fumble with the handle as the creature began to push itself up. Hermione looked back again just as the thing got to its feet and snarled at her. "WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT!" it screamed again with a crazed look.

Hermione sobbed in horror as she fought with the door while Rose wailed in her arms. The creature rose on its hind limbs and gave her something of a grin as it coiled in obvious preparation to pounce. Just as it leapt, Hermione's hand finally turned the handle and the door swung inward.

She fell into the room and quickly kicked the door shut. It clicked closed and the force of the creature's body colliding with it caused a framed photo to fall from the bedroom wall.

Hermione got up and bolted to her nightstand and grabbed her emergency Portkey as the door began to break under the creature's repeated attempts to slam itself through. Her fingers shook as she turned the dial on the alarm clock to activate it. It chimed signaling its activation and Hermione bounced anxiously as it counted down its five second delay to departure.

"Come on, come on," she chanted pleadingly.

As it chimed the third second, the creature broke through with the horrible sound of splintering wood. It scrambled over the broken bits of door and, after getting its foot caught on a jagged bit of wood, fell forward grabbing its bony hand to Hermione's ankle as it did so.

Hermione screamed again and tried to kick free, but the thing held tight as its claws sunk deep into her flesh.

Knowing that the thing would be transported with them while clutching her, Hermione gave her daughter one last, love-filled look before pushing the clock into the little girl's hands and tossing her onto her bed.

The clock gave the final chime and the last thing Hermione saw as she was tackled to the ground was Rose swirling away to safety.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Molly Weasley had just set her knitting needles to work when she heard a thud followed by a child's wailing from the next room. Yarn and fabric were immediately tossed aside as she rushed to the door to see her granddaughter lying on the floor.

"Rose!?" Molly cried at the sight, hurrying in to scoop the small girl up into her arms.

"Mumma! Mumma!" Rose sobbed, clutching her tiny hands into her grandmother's jumper. Molly spotted the used Portkey clock on her floor and then darted her eyes to her own magical clock.

"Oh, no…" she whispered in dreaded horror when she saw the clock hand labeled 'Hermione' had shifted to point to 'mortal peril'. Without another moment's hesitation, Molly moved swiftly across her home, Rose still in her arms, to the Floo.

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"Auror Weasley! Auror Weasley!"

Ron shifted in his desk chair to glare over his shoulder. "What?" he asked irritably around a bite of his lunch. "I'm busy."

The intern nearly shook where he stood and wrung his hands desperately, looking unsure of how to relay his message.

"Well?" Ron prodded. "Are you just gonna stand there or are you gonna tell me why you're interrupting my break?"

"Sir…your-your mum…she-she…she's on the Floo," the younger man stammered with shot nerves. "She's hysterical. Some-something about…about a rose in her house and…and your-your-your wife in mor-mortal per-"

But before the man could finish Ron had tossed aside his sandwich and Disapparated away.

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Silence.

That was the first thing that Ron Weasley noticed when he landed in his living room. Shattered glass covering his carpeting was the second.

He eyed the broken front window uneasily for a moment before swiveling his head to scan the room.

"Hermione!?" he called out, his wand drawn and raised.

Still silence.

Ron's fingers tightened around his wand as his heart hammered in his chest. "Hermione!?"

When there was still no response, he took several deep breaths and began to move slowly, yet deliberately across the room. Stepping over a small abandoned pile of toys he made his way toward the hallway.

"If someone is here, show yourself!" he demanded, his wand held high in preparation to cast. He turned the corner down his hall and immediately saw the splintered door to his bedroom barely hanging on its hinges.

"Hermione!?" he screamed, running down the hall and pushing the mangled door aside to enter his bedroom. The sight before him caused his knees to buckle and he slumped against the doorjamb.

Feathers from the shredded down duvet on the bed were strewn everywhere and mixed with the littered bits of broken trinkets that had been knocked from two overturned nightstands. There were a series of scorch marks from offensive spells marring the drapes and large amounts of blood splatter covered the walls and ceiling.

Ron gaped at the horrific scene. It was obvious that whoever had been attacked in his bedroom could not have survived.

"Hermione," he whispered brokenly.

That's when a hand suddenly rested on his shoulder. Ron jumped at the touch and let out a choked yelp as he whirled around. His knees nearly gave again when his brain registered who he was staring at.

Hermione stood there, covered in blood, feathers stinking every which way out of the impossibly tangled mess that was her hair, and blinked at him.

"Hermione!" Ron cried, pitching himself forward and throwing his arms around her. He squeezed her tight, but when she didn't reciprocate the hug he hastily pulled back and looked worried again.

"Are you okay!?" he asked her, looking her over. "Are you…are you hurt?"

Hermione stared at him and simply shook her head.

Ron let out an enormous exhale of relief. "So, you're alright?"

She nodded and he wrapped his arms around her again. "Gods, I was so…I saw the blood and…fuck, I've never been so scared in my life," he confessed, burying his face into her frazzled hair. Hermione finally lifted her arms to hug him back.

She began to squeeze and Ron tightened his embrace in response.

"I love you so much, Her…Hermione? Hermione, are you al…Hermione your hold's a bit ti-ight…"

Ron tried to pull back when his wife's grip became increasingly more constricting.

"Hermione!" he begged, his hands clawing at her back and sides when several of his ribs cracked. "Hermi-Her-"

His face started to turn purple as he gasped for breath, but Hermione didn't let up. She turned her face to press her mouth to his ear and the last thing Ron heard was a harsh, tinny voice whisper…

"What the fuck is that."


End file.
